


Heavenly

by likeastranger



Series: Heavenly [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - The 100 (TV) Fusion, Artist Clarke Griffin, Attempted Sexual Assault, Catholic School, F/F, Gay Disaster Lexa (The 100)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2019-12-25 14:16:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18263024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeastranger/pseuds/likeastranger
Summary: Catholic School AU. Clarke and Lexa don't like each other (yet.) Lexa is the schools badass, outcasted from most of her peers. Clarke is just the opposite - she seems to have it all. When the two girls are forced to work together on a semester-long project they find out maybe they don't hate each other after all.





	1. The First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first fic I have written in years, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you all enjoy it and I will try to upload regularly. I know I'm a little late to the whole Clexa thing, but I figured I'd give it a shot. Will have multiple chapters but I'm not sure how many yet! I'm still trying to get the formatting perfected, so I'm sorry if it looks weird at all! Thank you so much for reading!

Lexa’s old tennis shoes squeak against the white tiles of St. Mary’s Academy as she runs down the hallway. She’s barely holding up her backpack as she rounds the corner. Her plaid skirt hits the back of her knees and she pulls a sweater over her wet polo shirt. Lexa doesn’t have a good track record with the first day of school.  
Take, for example, the first day of freshman year when she sat through an entire AP Bio class because she was too scared to admit she was in the wrong room. Or the time she got caught on her phone in the second-floor restroom and got a weeks’ worth of detention (a wonderful start to sophomore year!)  
But today might take the cake for the worst day so far. Let’s see – she woke up late. Anya was no help, she’d forgot to even set an alarm in the first place. So she’s running late on the first day of senior year. It’s pouring rain outside and Anya’s car wouldn’t start. Since Lexa’s car is in the shop, she rode her bike. But you know what happens when you ride your bike to school in the rain?  
You get wet.  
And so, Lexa is soaking wet. Literally dripping and she barely has time to stop in the bathroom to grab a paper towel and dry herself off. In all reality, she’s only 10 minutes late, which isn’t bad given the circumstances. Now all she has to do is walk into Mr. Meyers English class and try not to make an ass out of herself. After gathering herself in the bathroom, she makes her way across the hallway, takes a deep breath, and opens the door.  
“Ah, Ms. Woods.” Mr. Meyers sighs.  
Lexa doesn’t hate Mr. Meyers. He’s alright, overall cool with students. Wants them to do their best to succeed and blah blah blah… He’s a young guy, Lexa knows some of the girls refer to him as “the Ezra Fitz” of St. Mary’s. She gets the appeal. He’s young, fit, has a nice pair of brown eyes and dark, curly hair. If she say him on the street she’d rate him a 7, maybe an 8. But in the walls of St. Mary’s that is filled with mostly teachers over 55 years old, he’s a 10.  
“Mr. Meyers.” She mumbles, taking a seat in the front row. She ignores the snickers that come from behind her. There is a beat of silence before Mr. Meyers continues, handing Lexa a copy of the syllabus for the semester.  
Her hair is dripping water onto the floor. Small droplets forming into a larger puddle. She tries to pay attention, but can’t concentrate.  
She’s never felt like she belongs here. Or maybe she is the only one honest enough to admit when she doesn’t agree with something. Some of the people here are the epitome of hypocritical. Getting drunk on Saturday night and sitting in the front row at church Sunday morning. Pledging to stay “pure” until they get married and giving their boyfriends hand jobs because “that doesn’t count as sex.”  
Lexa thinks its all bullshit.  
Fake people going through fake motions to please someone else. To fit in with their peers. To impress teachers or to comfort parents. All while hiding who they really are.  
And that’s when she hears her.  
Her being Clarke Griffin.  
Lexa can’t think of anyone who embodies the word “hypocrite” more than Clarke. She’s St. Mary’s golden girl. Head of the cheer squad, gets straight A’s (so does Lexa, but that’s beside the point,) and to top it all off, Clarke is from the perfect family. Only child of successful business man Jake Griffin and nurse Abigail Griffin, Clarke doesn’t want for anything. She’s been handed her life on a fucking silver platter. And the worst part? Clarke knows she’s fortunate. The privilege practically drips off her and Clarke knows it.  
She just doesn’t care.  
“Mr. Meyers, sorry to interrupt,” Clarke says sweetly, flashing a smile at him, “But are we going to be able to pick our partners for the big project due at the end of the year?”  
Lexa tries to control her facial expressions, she really does. But Clarke’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Her eyes roll so far back into her head that she’s afraid they might stay there.  
“No, Ms. Griffin. I will be assigning partners. And there will be no changing. If you don’t like your partner, get over it and work together. That’s life.”  
Lexa turns her head slightly until she can see Clarke. It’s been weeks since she’s seen the girl in person. Shockingly they didn’t hang out much over summer break. Clarke looks virtually the same. Her skin has become more tan, making her blonde hair and blue eyes stick out more. Lexa studies her for a second.  
She’s surrounded by her “friends,” most of whom Lexa knows for a fact don’t even like Clarke. She’s taking diligent notes over every word Mr. Meyers is saying. Her bright blue eyes flickering from the board then to her paper. Lexa watches the way that she taps her pencil on the table before placing the end of it on her bottom lip lightly.  
It take’s Lexa a few seconds to realize that Clarke hasn’t moved the pencil away from her mouth in a while. And that’s when Lexa’s eyes scale up and meet Clarke’s.  
Neither of them averts their gaze at first, they hold it for a few seconds, expressionless. All Lexa can see is the blue of Clarke’s eyes.  
The bell rings and Lexa snaps out of it, quickly packing up her things and leaving the room.  
God she needs a smoke.  
The layout of St. Mary’s is interesting to say the least. Hallways that just stop (no staircase or windows) and at least 5 ways of easily sneaking out that Lexa could name off the top of her head. Not to mention the rumors of a fucking tunnel system under the school. Lexa’s determined to find that before she graduates. Lexa plans out the best course of action. She has a 20-minute break between now and her next class. It’ll take her 5 minutes at the most to smoke, giving her approximately 15 minutes to sneak into one of her spots.  
She decides the old art annex is probably best.  
She walks down the East hallway, shoes not quite as squeaky and hair starting to frizz. Picking the lock is a piece of cake for her, she’s had years of practice. And so she waits until traffic is at its lowest and she slips inside.  
The old art annex is probably Lexa’s favorite spot in school. It’s the only place she feels like she’s not being watched by someone. By a teacher or a priest or her classmates. She breathes in deeply, taking comfort in the air that smells of old photography chemicals, acrylic paint and dust. The rooms is filled with various storage items. Giant pink and purple candles that the school placed in its front yard for Lent (seriously.) There are countless assembly chairs lining the walls. A box of Bibles is sitting on one of the desks collecting dust. Lexa doesn’t miss the huge crucifix hanging over the door.  
“Hey, Big Guy…” she mumbles, digging in her backpack and pulling out a pack of cigarettes and placing one in her mouth, “I feel like you would’ve smoked if that was a thing back then…”  
Lexa knows it sounds crazy, but she can feel him watching. His eyes unwavering and blank. It makes her skin crawl. Her father always told her that nothing comes before God. And she believed it for a long time. She’s not sure what she believes anymore. She used to idolize her father. But how could she idolize someone so full of hate?  
She lights her cigarette and checks the time. 10 minutes until class.  
Pushing the thoughts of her father out of her mind, Lexa takes a long drag and her shoulders relax. She hates that she smokes. It’s horrible for you and honestly kind of trashy, but she can’t help it now. Lexa’s been smoking since she was 13. Not like a-pack-a-day smoking, more like two packs a month on average. But still, she hears a nagging voice in her head telling her she should quit before it does even more damage to her lungs.  
It’s unfortunate, but Lexa seems to have an infatuation with things she knows are bad for her.  
She checks the time again. 4 minutes until class.  
The cigarette goes out almost on its own before Lexa snuffs it and drops it in an empty bucket. She sprays herself with perfume and pops in a piece of watermelon gum, making her way to class.  
The rest of the day goes without incident for the most part. Aside from having to glare at some people who had comments about her arrival this morning, she went to class. Ate lunch alone in the annex.  
Lexa does have some friends at St. Mary’s, but sometimes she genuinely wants to be alone.  
“Woods! Where the hell have you been all day?”  
Lexa looks up from her locker to see Lincoln walking towards her. His big frame sways at he walks up and pats her on the shoulder.  
“Around. You?”  
“Same. Except I heard something about you showing up to school soaking wet?”  
“Long story.”  
Lincoln watches her pack up her things, “You haven’t been around much lately.” His tone is careful and wary, he knows Lexa and he knows she hates talking about feelings. But he also knows that besides her sister, he’s the best friend she has. And it’s a best friend’s duty to ask.  
“That’s not true…” Lexa mumbles, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to end.  
“Look, Lexa…I know since things went down with your dad you’ve been-“  
“Don’t talk about that.” Lexa snaps, each word leaving her mouth sharply.  
“We have to talk about it at some point.” He says quietly. Lexa’s outburst attracted some side eyes in the hall. The look Lexa gives him is one of anger, but Lincoln isn’t scared.  
“You don’t know what I have to do. Or what I don’t have to do. So how about you fuck off?”  
“Lexa…” he pleads. But Lexa is already halfway down the hallway, holding up her middle finger at Lincoln.  
As she leaves the building she feels the warm sunlight on her face. It feels refreshing, and she takes it all in, peddling out of the parking lot on her bike.  
Anya is waiting for her at the door.  
“What’s up, Lex?” she says, handing her sister an apple. Lexa glances at it in confusion.  
“What’s up with the apple?”  
“You know what they way…” Anya mumbles, “An apple a day keeps the grumpy teen away.”  
Lexa takes a bite.  
“You think I’m a grumpy teen?” she feigns shock, placing her hand over her chest.  
“Come inside. I’ve got to work a double tonight, so I won’t be back until around 5 AM. I left money on the counter, get whatever you want okay?” Anya says in a more serious tone.  
“I told you, I can take care of myself. I’ve got plenty of food here anyway…”  
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you to just say thank you?”  
“I guess not.”  
Anya has been working doubles a few times a week at the local 24-hour diner in town since Lexa moved in with her. It makes Lexa’s heart ache, but Anya won’t let her get a job because “it interferes with school” and “you’ll have the rest of your life to work, so just be a kid right now.” Anya is by far the best person Lexa knows. She’s 6 years older than Lexa and has always guided her through life. She’s the person Lexa looks up to. And when things went…wrong, with her father Anya took her in no questions asked. She even got their father to agree to help Anya financially, no matter how small. Lexa’s been living here since the beginning of summer.  
“I love you. I gotta go!” Anya says, kissing Lexa’s forehead and swinging the door shut behind her.  
Lexa doesn’t like silence, so she puts on a CD and starts to undress. Taking off the school uniform is the greatest feeling in the world. Watching the plaid skirt and polo with a cross fall to the floor, she slips into shorts and a tank top. She’s got plenty to do today, laundry, dishes and homework.  
She’s actually on time her second day. Anya drops her off and Lexa makes it to class 10 minutes early. She sets up her stuff in the back of the class. She’s blasting music through her headphones when she feels a tap on her shoulder.  
“Lincoln? I didn’t know you were in this class.”  
“I’m not. I’m here to see you. Don’t you feel special?” he jokes.  
“What do you want, Linc?”  
“I’m having a back to school party this weekend. Saturday night starts at 8, so you should show up at 9. I’m supplying beer but if you want other shit, bring it yourself.”  
“I’m not going.”  
“Oh, yes you are, Woods. I’m not handling your shit this early in the year. If you don’t show up, I’m going to come to your house and drag you out.”  
Lexa sighs. She would consider not going, but she knows Lincoln well enough to know that he actually would drag her to the party. So she doesn’t say anything, just rolls her eyes and puts her headphones in. He smiles, talking to other people I the class before leaving.  
Clarke and her posy walk in right on time, taking their seats in front of Lexa. Clarke is sitting two rows to the left of her. She tries to keep her eyes trained on the board. She practically forces herself to look anywhere but at Clarke. Of course, her efforts fail.  
It’s unfortunate, but Lexa seems to have an infatuation with things she knows are bad for her.  
Her eyes fall onto the back of Clarke’s head. Her perfectly styled hair and pressed shirt make Lexa’s hands twitch.  
“Alright class. Fun day today, I’ll be assigning partners for the big final project. Remember, no switching. If you don’t like the person, get over it.” Mr. Meyers says, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. He glances down at his list of names, reading them off in pairs. Lexa listens for her name, and when she finally hears it her heart jumps into her throat.  
“Lexa…you’ll be working with Clarke.” Mr. Meyers says casually.  
Mother fucker.  
Clarke’s head spins around and their eyes meet. Lexa doesn’t try to hide her disappointment. It’s no secret the girls don’t get along. Clarke rolls her eyes, mumbling something to Octavia that makes the girl giggle. Lexa nearly snaps her pencil out of rage.  
“Go ahead and take the rest of the class time to pick the book you’d like to write about and bring it to me for approval.”  
The class breaks into discussion. Lexa watches as Clarke hesitates, walking towards Lexa, her eyes trained on the floor. She stands at the foot of her desk. Lexa doesn’t move from her slouched position, pencil between her teeth.  
“Lexa.” Clarke says, her voice is stern. It’s the first time they’ve spoken in over 6 months.  
“Clarke.” Lexa says, “Shall we exchange pleasantries, or do you want to cut the shit?”  
“I see.” Clarke says, tapping her foot on the ground, “I guess we’ll cut the shit then.”  
“Clarke…” Lexa says, gasping, “You know God is always watching, you wouldn’t want to disappoint him with curse words.” Sarcasm is obvious in her voice, a smirk on her face. Lexa loves the flustered look on Clarke’s face. The fire behind her eyes. It make’s Lexa’s heart beat faster. It makes her feel alive.  
“Let’s just pick a book, okay?” Clarke says through gritted teeth.  
“Well what you like, your highness?” Lexa asks, prompting Clarke to sit down next to her.  
“I’m serious, Lexa. You know, some of us take our grades seriously.” She spits back at Lexa. It makes her blood rush.  
“You do know we have the same GPA, right?” Lexa counters, leaning up in her chair and placing her elbows on her desk.  
“Whatever. I’m just going to pick a book and you’ll have to deal with it.”  
“Oh, I don’t think so. We both have to sign the paper for Mr. Meyers, and I’m not signing some shitty book you want to do.”  
“Fine.” Clarke says, rolling her neck, “Then help me pick. one.”  
Clarke’s eyes turn a different shade of blue when she’s angry. Darker, not quite as bright as the ocean anymore. She bites the inside of her cheek. Her brow is slightly scrunched and her foot is tapping on the ground at an even faster pace than before.  
“I don’t know. I think I need some time to think about it.”  
“Lexa, I swear to all things good, if you don’t-“  
She’s cut off by the bell. Lexa lets out a bitter laugh, grabbing her backpack and ignoring Clarke’s calls as she leaves the room.  
This is going to be one hell of a year.


	2. Golden Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's POV. She's the golden girl - but her life is far from perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank's for reading. I am always open to suggestions/constructive criticism. This chapter contains a little more about Clarke's life. I hope that you all enjoy it, I am having a wonderful time writing this story! Let me know you're thoughts. Again, I am still getting the formatting perfected, so I apologize if it is difficult to read. Hopefully I'll get the hang of it soon. Thank you again for reading!

Clarke pulls her hair up and fashions it into a perfect pony tail. She takes a long look at herself in the mirror, applying mascara to her eyelashes and a hint of blush to her cheeks. 

Finn should be here in about 20 minutes, if he’s on time. He usually isn’t. 

Her black skirt hugs her hips and her tight red top makes her boobs look great. Clarke has always cared about her appearance – she gets that from her mother. Abby would have a fit if Clarke stepped out of the house in sweatpants. She carefully puts on her necklace, allowing the small golden cross to fall just above her heart. Her father gave this to her years ago, when they all still ate dinner as a family. It was a random gift, no birthday or holiday to celebrate. 

“Just for you, darling.” 

That’s what the note said. It still sits on her desk. 

Her father is always traveling for work now. He got a promotion, which Clarke thought would be a good thing. She never realized that it would mean coming home to an empty house almost every day. She never realized that it would mean ordering take out every night. She never realized it meant being alone. Her mother isn’t much help. Long shifts at the hospital and trips to see her father keep Abby busy. 

She jumps when a loud honk comes from her driveway. That’s how Finn says hello nowadays. He used to be sweet – walking up to her door. Shaking her father’s hand, bringing her mother flowers. Opening car doors for her. Kissing her on the cheek. Something’s changed but Clarke isn’t quite sure what it is. She’s always thought that’s how relationships work. 

This is how she’s supposed to feel.

As she sits down on Finn’s leather seats he leans over and kisses her aggressively on the lips. 

“Hi baby.” He says, flashing a smile at her. She forces a smile back, “I was thinking a movie and then my place after?” 

“Sounds great.” 

Finn drives fast, ignoring the speed limit signs. (I guess that’s one of the bonuses of your dad being the police chief.) He places his hand on her knee, rubbing his rough hands over her skin. Tracing a little higher with each movement, closer to the bottom of her skirt. It seems like all they do these days is mess around. 

“Mess around” meaning Clarke would let Finn touch her, and she’d touch him. But that’s pretty much it. Finn has made it clear he wants more. Clarke guesses she should be flattered. Finn is the best guy at St. Mary’s. Women want to be with him, men want to be him. Teachers love him. He’s the captain of the football team, sure to get a scholarship to some college. Clarke would move there with him – they’d get married. She’d be a nurse like her mother. 

But every time Finn touches her she wants to run. She pictures her life with him. She pictures starting a family. Working Monday through Friday. Church on Sunday, followed by family dinner. It makes her skin crawl. 

But this is what her life is supposed to be. Never mind the fact that Clarke wants to work in art. Never mind the fact that Clarke isn’t sure she has a medical bone in her body. Or the fact that sometimes she looks at Finn and feels nothing. 

Finn pulls into the movie theatre. Clarke doesn’t bother asking what they’re going to see, she never really gets a say. It’ll be some stupid action movie. Finn will take her to the back row, and the second the lights dim he’ll stick his tongue down her throat. She’ll pretend to like it. Clarke doesn’t even notice that the car has stopped moving until he knocks on the window, signaling for her to get out. 

When Raven’s name pops up on her phone, she’s thankful. She pushes Finn off her and slides off his bed. 

“It could be an emergency…” she says, pushing his hands off her shoulder and answering the phone. 

“Reyes, what’s up?” 

“Griff! Glad you answered. Thought you and Finn might be too busy…” she jokes. Clarke can hear the mischievous smile through the phone. 

“Never too busy for you.” 

“And that’s why I love you,” Raven says. Clarke gives Finn an apologetic look before slipping out of his room and into the hallway, “If you’re not too busy with your boytoy, I was gonna have Octavia over. You’re invited of course.” 

“Yes!” Clarke answers, almost too excited, “I mean yeah. Now? I’ll come now.” 

“Everything okay, Clarke?” Raven asks, a rare moment of seriousness in her voice. 

“Yup! Just excited to see you.” 

“Alright…” Raven says, “Well come whenever. Have Finn drop you off.” 

Clarke tells Finn its an emergency. “Girl stuff” is usually enough of an explanation for him. Within 10 minutes he’s dropping her off at the Reyes house. Clarke walks in without knocking. She’s known Raven since before she could walk, their mothers are friends. Raven’s house was like her own, which gave Clarke a since of comfort. Sometimes Clarke would come over unannounced, Mrs. Reyes never asked any questions. She always lets Clarke stay for dinner. She can hear Octavia and Raven talking from the hallway. Octavia is going on about something Lincoln said. 

“Are you ever going to shut up about him, O?” Clarke jokes as she walks in. 

“Oh, shove it, Clarke.” Octavia says, pushing her shoulder as Clarke plops down beside them on Raven’s bed. The three girls have been best friends since middle school. Clarke isn’t sure who else she can trust – Raven and Octavia have always been there. They were there the summer that Clarke’s grandmother died and all she wanted to do was cry. Raven brought her ice cream when Finn cheated on her (the first time) and Octavia threatened to set his car on fire (without him in it, of course.) They both know Clarke. They actually know her, and Clarke is so thankful for that. She’s sure she’d go insane without them. 

“My mom is making dinner tonight. We can either stay in or go out?” Raven says, breaking the comfortable silence between them. 

“You think I’m going to pass up your moms cooking?” 

“Yeah. Let’s stay in, I wanna watch The Bachelor anyway.” Octavia says. 

“That show is garbage.” Clarke says, rolling her eyes. 

“Well the main guy is hot. And some of the ladies aren’t too bad either.” Octavia jokes. Clarke feels a stiffness in her bones. 

“Ew, O! Don’t be gross. That’s disgusting.” Raven laughs. Octavia just shrugs. Clarke feels her cheeks getting warm. She doesn’t take her eyes off the ceiling. Octavia starts talking more about Lincoln, but Clarke isn’t really hearing her. Raven’s words ring in her head. 

Disgusting. 

They’re about halfway through their second movie when Raven is the first to pass out. She’s letting out quite sighs as she sleeps. Octavia and Clarke are still awake, munching on popcorn. 

“How’s Finn?” Octavia asks, taking a sip of her soda. 

“He’s good.” 

“Hmm…” Octavia says, pausing the movie and facing Clarke, “Look, Griffin. I know you haven’t known me quite as long as Reyes, but I can tell when something is wrong.” She says, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. 

“Really, it’s fine.” Clarke says. She feels like if she says the words out loud it will become real, and that’s the last thing Clarke wants. 

“Did he cheat on you again? Because I will key that perfect car of his. I don’t care if his dad is a police officer.” 

“No. I just –“ Clarke falters, “I’m just having…a hard time right now.” It’s not technically a lie. 

“With what?” Octavia asks. Clarke looks right into her eyes and she swears Octavia can see right through her. 

“I don’t know what I want.” 

It’s been a long time coming. Octavia and Raven have never liked Finn much. And after he cheated on her, it got worse. But they’ve always supported Clarke and her decisions. So, when she decided to get back together with him, they let her. Raven tends to get angry, but Octavia just listens. 

“You don’t always have to know.” Octavia says, reaching over and squeezing her hand. Clarke doesn’t respond. She doesn’t know how. So, she just smiles before covering herself with a blanket. 

 

Clarke firmly believes that no human being should have to wake up before 6 AM. It’s a crime, really. When her alarm goes off on Monday morning, she considers skipping classes. But Clarke never misses class. 

She’s pretty sure her mother would kill her if she did. 

So, she gets up and showers. She can hear her mother making breakfast. She’ll leave Clarke some in the oven, but they won’t sit and eat together. The water runs over her body – she loves hot showers. So hot they’re almost painful. Anything to make her feel something. 

Clarke puts on her best shirt, tucking it into her plaid skirt that is a few inches shorter than the dress code calls for. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the looks she got in the hallways. She pulls on her newest sneakers and begins to straighten her hair. 

“Clarke! It’s already 7! You’ve got mass today, don’t forget! Love you!” 

Their house door slams shut behind her mother and Clarke hears her car pull out of the garage. Clarke doesn’t exactly enjoy mass, but what teenager does? It can be a little boring. But Clarke is always in the front row, singing the loudest and reading the scripture in front of the school. It makes her father smile and it gives Clarke a sense of comfort. 

She arrives at St. Mary’s before almost anyone else. She takes a seat in the front row, staring up at the crucifix. The cathedral feels huge around her. Like it’s swallowing her whole. The statues and paintings surround her – all their eyes on her, judging her. 

She almost screams when she hears the door of the church slam behind her. Her head whips around, her breath choppy. 

“Jumpy today?” 

Clarke’s hands tighten around her rosary. Lexa Woods stands a few pews behind her, a smirk on her face. 

“I’m usually the only person here this early.” 

Lexa nods. Clarke wishes she would say something, but Lexa just looks at her. Brown hair frames her face, curls going off in all different directions. 

“I’m shocked you’re here at all.” Clarke knows she’s picking a fight, but she can’t think of anything else to say. She’d rather fight than sit in silence. 

“Well, you know, it is a requirement.” Anger seeps into Lexa’s voice. 

“You’ve never been one for rules.” 

Lexa is closer to Clarke now. Standing at the edge of her pew. Clarke doesn’t move out of her seat, but she feels like running away. Lexa’s eyes fall to Clarke’s hands. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I ruining your time with Him?” Lexa jokes, pointing to the cross. 

Clarke scoffs, “So typical of you, isn’t it Lexa? Taking something beautiful and pure and ruining it.” 

Lexa’s laugh rings off the walls around her. It makes Clarke’s jaw clench. 

“Sure, typical of me.” Lexa steps even closer to Clarke, sitting down next to her. She’s close enough that Clarke can see the small scar on her cheek, “But my question is…what is Clarke Griffin doing here so early?” 

Clarke tightens her hands around the rosary, keeping her eyes trained forward. 

“Must be praying pretty hard about something?” Clarke tries to ignore how her legs tighten together at the sound of Lexa’s whispering, “Got something on your mind, Clarke?” 

Lexa is even closer now. Clarke can’t keep her eyes forward, so she decides to close them and breathe deeply. Her heart is beating so quickly she’s sure that Lexa can see it popping out of her chest. Her hands are sweaty. She’s trying to think of something to say but she can’t. 

They’re both spooked when the door opens this time. Father Simon walks in, smiling at them both. Lexa stands up, shuffling out of the pew and leaving the church altogether. Clarke watches her go, her mind is racing. 

“Ms. Griffin,” Father Simon says, “Would you like to lead prayer today?”


	3. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa attend the same party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Just a warning, if you are sensitive to inappropriate sexual content, please do not read this chapter. Your mental health should be your priority. If you do decide to read, please let me know your thoughts. Thank you for reading. I hope you all enjoy it - I will try to update more often.

 

“ _Catcher in the Rye_? Is that a joke?”

 

Clarke rolls her eyes.

 

“No, it’s not a joke, Lexa.”

 

“That’s a loved book by pretty much every sociopath…” Lexa says, shoving the book back towards Clarke on the desk. They’re a week and a half behind everyone else on this project because they can’t agree on a damn book. “I guess that makes sense for you doesn’t it, Clarke?”

 

“Are you calling me a sociopath?”

 

Lexa shrugs.

 

“Well what do you have in mind?”

 

Lexa reaches over the desk, unzipping her backpack. Clarke watches as she pulls out an old book. The cover is faded, and the binding is loose. Lexa’s hands grip the book tightly before placing it gently in front of Clarke. She picks it up and reads the cover.

 

“ _Sense and Sensibility_?”

 

“It’s a classic. Jane Austin’s first published work.”

 

Clarke flips through the pages. This copy is worn down, some of the pages have ripped corners, others are stained. Clarke notices that some of the sentences are underlined in pencil.

 

“Where did you get this? It’s in horrible shape, the library should retire it.” Clarke mumbles, handing the book back to Lexa.

 

“It’s actually my copy.”

 

“Oh…”  Clarke watches as Lexa shoves the book gently into her backpack, “Well fine. We can do that one. I’ll buy it tomorrow.  Let’s try and have the review section done by two weeks from now?”

 

“Whatever you want, princess.”

 

 

 

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The hallway is loud and crowded. The sounds of lockers slamming shut and the latest gossip fill Clarke’s head. She’s got a free period after English, which she needs now that she has to talk to Lexa almost every day. She needs to relax. Alone.

 

Clarke has never met someone as infuriating as Lexa, she’s sure of that. She first remembers meeting Lexa when she was in the 6th grade. Lexa was new, her family moved to town from a big city, New York? Chicago maybe? She remembers that Lexa was quiet. Almost _painfully_ quiet. People thought she was weird from the start, she didn’t act like everyone else.

 

Clarke is snapped out of her thoughts by a rough hand grabbing her butt. She suppresses a scream and turns around to see Finn’s smiling face. He kisses her quickly.

 

“Hey babe.”

 

“Hi.” Clarke says shortly. She’s not in the mood to play to Finn’s feelings right now. Sometimes it feels like everything she does is to make him happy.

 

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re mad or something?” Finn says, looking Clarke up and down with a confused expression.

 

_Insightful._

“Just tired. Want the week to be over. Are you excited for the game tonight?” Clarke decides to change the subject. If there’s one thing Finn can talk about for hours, its football.

 

“Hell yeah! We’re playing St. Johns, their QB isn’t anything compared to me. Plus, we’ve got Lincoln on defense. Easy win.”

 

His hand slips around her waist, pulling her closer for a kiss. Clarke obliges, allowing herself to be kissed by him. His mouth is rough, and his slight facial hair prickles her cheeks. She pushes him back by the chest, smiling as best she can.

 

“Get a room.”

 

Raven is opening her locker next to Clarke, raising her eyebrows at the couple. Clarke laughs at her comment.

 

“Reyes, are you going to Lincoln’s place this weekend?” Clarke asks, wriggling out of Finn’s arm and putting her backpack on.

 

“Of course. I can give you a ride?”

 

“No, I got her.” Finn says, his arm around her again.

 

_Why is he so touchy?_

And why is he answering questions for her? Raven just nods, her and Finn slipping into some conversation about this year’s football team. It’s times like these that Clarke feels invisible. Raven is her best friend and Finn is her boyfriend, so why does she feel like neither one of them can really see her?

 

She’s thankful when the warning bell rings. She gives some half-assed excuse about having somewhere to be, walking away from Finn.

 

Clarke loves the library. She knows its cliché – popular high school cheerleader who actually would rather be reading – but it’s how she feels.

 

“Ms. Langford, could I check out a book?” she whispers, approaching the library desk.

 

“Clarke! Starting the reading off early this year, I see.” Ms. Langford says, smiling at Clarke. They’ve almost become friends due to the time Clarke spends in this room. Ms. Langford even got her a present for her birthday last year. The entire collection of _The Chronicles of Narnia_. Clarke nearly cried when she opened it – it was the most thoughtful gift she’d gotten in years. Sure, her parents got her gifts for every obligatory celebration: necklaces, earrings, bracelets, electronics and more. It’s not that Clarke isn’t grateful for those things – but there’s no feeling behind it.

 

“It’s never too early to take an adventure.”

 

“Well, what can I get for you?”

 

“Um _, Sense and Sensibility_. Jane Austin, I think…”

 

“A classic. You’ve read it before?”

 

“Oh, no. It’s for an English class.” Clarke says, following Ms. Langford into the stacks of books that surround them. She scans the shelves.

 

“Well I can’t think of a better option. It’s a great book. Funny too, if you know what to look for.” She says, handing Clarke a copy.

 

“Funny, huh?”

 

Honestly, Clarke is surprised that Lexa suggested a book that could be considered a comedy. She can’t think of the last time she saw Lexa genuinely smile, let alone laugh. Sure, there’s always a snide comment accompanied with a smirk on Lexa’s face, but there’s not any joy behind it.  

 

She shakes her head, flashing Ms. Langford a smile. Clarke knows she shouldn’t read into Lexa. That’s one adventure she doesn’t want to go on – and yet she can’t get Lexa off her mind.

 

 

 

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Lexa doesn’t show up at Lincoln’s house until 9:15. Her bike skids to a stop on the street. She can hear the music from here – some shitty rap song. She chains her bike to a light pole a few houses down, walking slowly down the street and cracking the door to Lincolns house open.

 

The smell of beer, sweat and weed are noticeable right away. She makes her way to the drink table, pushing herself through various groups of people. Lexa cracks open a beer, taking a long sip.

 

“Lexa _freaking_ Woods, I knew you’d come!”

 

“Lincoln, you literally threatened me.” Lexa mumbles, rolling her eyes as he pulls her into an unreciprocated hug. They’ve been friends since Lexa moved here. Lincoln seemed to understand her more than anyone else in the school. And he rarely pried, which Lexa appreciated.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Look, we’ve got beer here. Games in the back. Bathroom is upstairs.”

 

“I’ve been here a million times, Linc.”

 

He smiles at her, “Yeah, but it’s been a while.”

 

She doesn’t have a response to that. She knows it’s true – and honestly, she feels back about it.  She’d never _tell_ anyone, but she does. Lincoln has always been there for Lexa, comforting her after her dad…after things changed.

 

Lexa was at her most vulnerable and seeing Lincoln any time after that felt strange. She felt exposed.

 

“Lincoln! Babe, c’mon we’re up for beer pong.”

 

Lexa looks up from the floor to see Octavia Blake standing, well more like swaying next to Lincoln.

 

“ _Babe_?” she asks, raising one eyebrow at Lincoln.

 

He shrugs, but the wide smile on his face suggests he doesn’t mind the nickname, “I’m coming. Give me one second.”

 

“So, you and Octavia huh?” Lexa teases, “She’s cute.”

 

“Hey, hands off, Woods. I really like her.” He jokes. Lexa smiles up at him. He looks like he’s about to say something far too heartfelt for Lexa’s brain to handle, but he’s pulled away by some of his football buddies before he can get the words out.

 

Lexa is left standing alone at a very crowded party. _Feel’s familiar_. She takes her drink and leans up against a wall, watching her classmates make fools of themselves. Jeremy from her US History class is currently trying to smash two beer cans on his head at once. She’s got to admit, he’s better at it than she thought he would be. Shelby, a member of the cheer squad is fawning over him.

 

_Young love, how beautiful._

Once Lexa decides she’d had enough of the people watching for now, she makes her way upstairs. She knows Lincolns house well enough to find his parent’s bathroom. She’s not really _supposed_ to be in here, but no harm no foul, right?

 

She opens a window, propping herself up on the ledge and lighting a joint from her pocket. She inhales deeply, trying to get her mind to stop racing with thoughts of her father. Thoughts of her peers and their opinions on her. She takes another long drag.

 

Lexa isn’t one to scare easily, but she jumps slightly when the bathroom door opens and quickly slams shut. The smile on her face grows as she watches Clarke Griffin close her eyes before splashing water on her cheeks.

 

“Hey Princess.”

 

Clarke jumps, letting out a small yelp before turning to face Lexa fully.

 

“Just when I thought my night couldn’t get any worse.”

 

 

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If you asked anyone in the school, they would tell you that Clarke Griffin knows how to party. She can hold her alcohol remarkably well and knows how to have a good time. She’s been drunk on plenty of occasions. When she’s drunk, she feels like she’s floating. It’s a break from the weight she feels in her day-to-day life.

 

That’s why she’s having such a great time at Lincoln’s. She’s had a winning streak in beer pong for a few hours now. Her two best friends are dancing next to her and her boyfriend has left her alone, for the most part.

 

Clarke chooses no to think about the fact that she’s happier when Finn isn’t around. Maybe it’s just a rough patch? Couples have those, right? She takes another shot.

 

“O, I think Lincoln wants you.” Raven says, elbowing Octavia and pointing to Lincoln who is openly starring at her, a wide smile on his face. She watches as Octavia saunters over to him, only to drag him upstairs.

 

“I wish someone would look at me that way.” Clarke doesn’t realize the implication of her words until they slip through her lips.

 

“Okay I know you’re tipsy, but you can’t possibly be so drunk you’re forgetting about your literal boyfriend. Finn Collins. Captain of the football team. Only son of two well-off parents. Very much in love with you.” Raven jokes.

 

“Yeah I just meant… I don’t know.” _God, she needs more alcohol._

Clarke instantly regrets her next two shots. She’s never been much of a whiskey girl, but anything works for her right now. _Anything to ger her brain to stop working._ But she feels sick the second they pass her lips.

 

She steps outside for some air, looking up at the stars. It’s practically a cloudless night, so she can make out quite a few. No matter how bad things get, they always calm her down. Clarke isn’t quite sure how she got here, drunk and alone at a party. They past few months, things have changed. Her and Finn have grown apart. All the qualities she loved about him have seemingly disappeared. Her father was always gone, thousands of miles away and in a different time zone. And her mother…well she wasn’t exactly close. She spends most of her time at work, Clarke can’t even remember the last time they had a real conversation.

 

“Clarkey! What are you doing out here all alone?”

 

Finn walks up behind her, slipping two hands around her waist and holding her close.

 

“Needed some fresh air.”

 

“You should’ve come to find me.” He says, quickly turning Clarke around to face him. She looks up into his eyes that once seemed so warm. Now they’re empty.

 

“I wanted to be alone.” Clarke says flatly, trying to push away from him. Her heart rate speeds up with he only holds her tighter.

 

“Alone with me?”

 

“No, Finn. Alone as in _by my fucking self_.” She pushes harder and he stumbles back. She’s suddenly hyperaware of her surroundings. Her back is against a fence. Finn stands between her and the door. They’re alone.

 

“Why have you been such a bitch lately?” he asks, taking steps towards her.

 

“I’m stressed.”

 

“Well then let me help you relax.”

 

Finn kisses her roughly, a hand sliding up to grasp at her breast. He pushes her back against the fence.

 

“Finn, I don’t-“

 

“Clarke, come on. We’ve been dating for two and a half years and you’ve never let me go all the way…” he says. Clarke tries to push him away, but he grabs her wrist and pins it down.

 

“Stop.” She says, her eyes swelling up with tears. He’s kissing down her neck now. Biting harshly at her skin. Clarke feels frozen, like she can’t move or think. Finn’s hand is lower now, slipping under her shirt.

 

“Clarke, relax,” Finn mumbles against her neck. She can smell the beer on his breath, “This is what boys and girls are _supposed_ to do.”

 

He pops the button on her jean shorts, slipping his hand in her underwear and harshly brushing over her.

 

She’s not sure what exactly happened next. All she knows is she’s surging forward, scratching her nails down the side of Finn’s cheek. She sees blood.

 

“Ouch!” he yells, “You’re a crazy fucking bitch you know that?”

 

Clarke doesn’t bother to listen. She’s running into the house, holding back tears as she finds the most vacant room she can. She slips into a bathroom, locking the door behind her. Tears sting the back of her eyes as she splashes water onto her face.

 

“Hey Princess.”

 

Clarke’s skin is covered in goosebumps the second she hears her voice, raspy and unafraid.

 

“Just when I thought my night couldn’t get any worse.” She mumbles, turning to face Lexa, who is blowing smoke out a window.

 

When their eyes meet, Clarke sees something flash across Lexa’s face. Confusion? Concern? She isn’t sure, but Lexa takes a long drag before standing, taking a hesitant step towards Clarke.

 

“Are you alright?” Lexa asks, her brow knit together in thought. She looks Clarke up and down, stopping on her wrist, which has already begun to turn a shade of purple.

 

“Not that its any of your business, but I’m fine.” Clarke spits. Lexa is closer now, and she reaches her hand out to touch Clarke’s wrist lightly.

 

“This doesn’t look fine.”

 

Clarke pulls back harshly, “Not everything is a sob story, Lexa.”

 

“Clarke. Seriously…what happened? Do I need to call someone? My sister knows a few cops who patrol around here and I could have one of them-“

 

“Fuck off, Lexa.” Clarke tries to make her voice sound as steady as possible. Lexa’s rare moment of genuine concern has thrown Clarke off. _This isn’t how they operate_. They’re all about snide comments in class and hateful looks – not kind gestures. Clarke is too confused and drunk to understand.

 

“Clarke.” Lexa says softly, taking Clarke’s hand again.

 

Clarke pushes her away, causing the brown-haired girl to stumble and fall backwards, “Don’t _ever_ touch me. I know where your hands have been. You’re disgusting.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lexa says, standing up. She looks different than she usually does. Her hair is pulled back, a few curls hanging down around her face. The worry on her face makes Clarke want to run in the opposite direction.

 

“You know exactly what it means.” Clarke lashes out, “Everyone knows, Lexa. We all know who you are. _What_ you are.”

 

“And what am I exactly, Clarke?”

 

“A disgrace.”

 

Clarke watches as Lexa’s eyes switch from caring to callous before she can even blink. Lexa’s jaw clinches tightly, green eyes scanning Clarke’s face before she scoffs. She’s walking towards the door, brushing past Clarke on the way out. Clarke’s eyes are burning, and her hands are shaking. Just before Lexa reaches for the handle, she turns around.

 

“He’s nothing.” She says, “He’s absolutely nothing compared to you.”

 

 

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“Anya if you keep overworking yourself, you’re gonna end up in a hospital.”

 

“You’re dramatic.”

 

“You’re spreading yourself too thin.”

 

Anya rolls her eyes, taking another handful of popcorn from the bucket that sits between them on the sofa. They’re having one of their movie nights, which seem to happen so rarely now. With Anya’s crazy schedule and Lexa having to help around the house, they barely see each other. The bags under Anya’s eyes have grown since Lexa moved in, the added expenses of two mouths to feed meant more money was going out the window. Lexa couldn’t stand to see Anya like this; tired and defeated.

 

“I’ve been thinking…” Lexa treads carefully, “The hardware store down the street is hiring. I could get something part time and start helping with some of the bills.”

 

“Not gonna happen.”

 

“Why?” Lexa asks, turning to face Anya. She pauses the movie.

 

“Dad promised to help more.”

 

“You spoke to him?” Lexa fidgets with her hands, unable to look at Anya.

 

“Yeah. About a week ago.”

 

Lexa doesn’t know what to say. It’s been months since she’s seen him. Her and Anya rarely talk about it. When they do, it usually ends with Lexa wanting to punch a hole in something.

 

“Lex…” Anya places a hand on her knee, squeezing it lightly, “He’s your dad. I know he messed up, but he loves you.”

 

“Did he even ask about me?” Lexa stands abruptly, her voice cracking slightly.

 

“He always does.”

 

Lexa’s father confuses her. Her mom died when she was young. She remembers very little about what she was like, all her memories faded. All her connection to her mother comes from what others say about her, or from old home movies that Lexa has watched countless times, trying to see some of herself in her mother’s face. But Lexa’s father is different.

 

They were close. _Extremely close_. Sometimes, Lexa thought that the only person who understood her was her dad – she couldn’t have been more wrong. He taught her everything she knows about life, about people. He was everything to Lexa.

 

Things changed a few months ago.

 

Lexa shakes her thoughts away, going to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. She plops down on the sofa again.

 

“Whatever. Lets just finish the movie.”

 

She tries to focus on the screen. Some shitty horror movie that Anya chose. But all she can think about is her dad. What he said to her. His hand slapping her face. The sound sending a shock wave through both of them. Her shaking hands packing a bag and leaving with tears in her eyes.

 

Lexa lost a part of herself that night. Sure, she’d always been rebellious. Hell, she got that trait from her dad. She was a trouble child, her teachers always described here as ‘too gifted for her own good’. It’s hard to pay attention in class when you’re already 10 steps ahead of everyone else. She smokes and drinks and drives a little too fast down residential streets.

 

But now Lexa is _broken_. She sleeps too much, cares too little and closes everyone out. She isn’t sure she’ll ever be the same.

 

 

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Clarke slowly pulls into the school parking lot, parking as far away from Finn’s car as she can. Her eyes scan the area before getting out of the car and quickly walking into the building. She puts on a smile as best she can; she’s got an image to uphold, after all. But Saturday’s party incident shook her to her core. She hasn’t spoken to Finn, if he wanted to apologize then he could reach out himself.

 

He hasn’t.

 

Clarke pulls the sleeves of her cheer jacket down over her wrist to hide the bruise. As far as she knows, the only person aware that anything happened is Lexa Woods.

 

Lexa _fucking_ Woods.

 

Clarke pulls her locker open, grabbing her first period books. She’s thought a lot about how she wants to handle this. She figures that bribery is probably the best way to get Lexa to keep her mouth shut about the whole thing. She’s a little surprised that she hasn’t heard anyone whispering about her yet. Usually news travels fast around here – especially when its about the captain of the football team and his perfect cheerleader girlfriend.

 

“Hey hot stuff.”

 

Clarke jumps at the sound of his voice. Finn makes his way towards her, placing a hand on her hip. She wants to run.

 

“Hi.”

 

Finn’s hair is damp, probably from his shower after football practice. His tall body towers over her, making Clarke feel small and insignificant. Her fingers twitch when she sees the scratch marks down the right side of his face. They’re small, almost too small to notice if it weren’t for the scabbing.

 

“I figured we could just let the party thing go. You were pretty drunk.” Finn’s voice is accusatory. Clarke hates how he’s making it her fault, but she isn’t surprised.

 

Against her better judgement, she nods. Finn’s words ring in her mind.

 

_This is what boys and girls are supposed to do._

 

Clarke is positive that this is just a phase of uncertainty. All couples have them, right? You fight and make up. That’s how relationships go. This is _normal_.

 

She is _normal_.

 

Finn smiles, kissing her lips before being pulled away by some of his football friends. And that’s when Clarke sees her.

 

Lexa’s headphones are stuck in her ears. She’s wearing a navy-blue sweater with their school’s crest printed on the back. Her skirt sways with her body as she walks past Clarke. She looks like she’s blissfully in her own world and for a second, Clarke is jealous. She’s jealous of the way that Lexa can walk through the hallways without a care – not giving a shit about what anyone thinks of her. Clarke doesn’t have that privilege.

 

She follows Lexa down the math hallway, checking her watch to see they still have 20 minutes until the start of first period. She watches the brown-haired girl slip into an old classroom, using a key that Clarke suspects isn’t approved by the school.

 

Her legs carry her quickly down the hallway towards Lexa. She opens the door to the room to find green eyes starring back at her. Lexa is sitting, propped up on a table near the back of the room. Both headphones still in. She’s got a lit cigarette between her lips. A wicked smile appears on her face.

 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

“You aren’t allowed to smoke in here.”

 

Lexa laughs, “Sweetheart, I’m not technically allowed to smoke at all.”

 

Clarke looks Lexa over again, her eyes lingering a little too long on the other girls’ lips. _They’re so pink_ , Clarke thinks. It’s almost like Lexa is reading her mind, because her tongue darts out over her lips and her smirk remains there.

 

“I guess I’ll ask again,” Lexa’s voice is dull, she hops off of the desk, stepping towards Clarke slowly, “Why do I have the homecoming queen all to myself?”

 

Clarke’s chest flutters at the way Lexa’s eyes examine her body.

 

“Homecoming hasn’t even happened yet.”

 

“But we all know you’ll be the winner,” Lexa counters, “Now stop avoiding the question.”

 

She’s merely a few feet away from Clarke now, puffs of smoke filling the space between them. Clarke can’t concentrate when she’s this close. She can’t think of anything but the way Lexa’s fingers delicately hold the cigarette between them.

 

“I wanted to talk about what happened on Saturday.” Clarke says, taking a step back and knocking a chair over in the process.

 

Lexa’s smirk is gone now, a patient look on her face as she raises an eyebrow at Clarke.

 

“I would appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone. About what you saw.” She mumbles, dragging her foot over a crack in the floor, “In return, I can do the English project. I’ll put your name on it at the end.”

 

“In _return_?”

 

Clarke thinks that maybe she wasn’t clear enough, “Yeah. If you keep it to yourself, I’ll do the entire thing. On my own.”

 

Lexa snuffs her cigarette out against the wall, leaving a black mark in the wallpaper. She shakes her head.

 

“That won’t be necessary.” She pushes past Clarke, swinging the door open while putting her headphones back in.

 

“Wait-“ Clarke grabs her wrist, pulling away quickly when the softness of Lexa’s skin gives her chills, “No one can know.”

 

“I would never tell anyone.” Lexa’s voice is rigid, “I don’t know what kind of person you think I am, but I would never do that.”

 

And just like that, Lexa is gone, leaving Clarke confused and alone.


	4. Mind Over Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa finally get started on their project, while planning for one of the biggest nights of senior year: homecoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm just now getting over the worst writers block I've ever had, so I hope you all enjoy the update. I really, really enjoy this story and these two together (even if they're not together yet!) I love reading your comments, so please let me know what you think, it means a lot. More notes at the end of the chapter!!! Thanks so so much for reading.

 

 

Finn has always been good at helping Clarke keep up her appearances. She’s starting to realize that’s the reason she can’t find it in herself to leave him. She’s scared of what it will mean if she does.

 

Growing up, all Clarke wanted was to be perfect. Clarke Griffin: the only child of two perfect parents, who live in a perfect house. The girl who goes to church every Sunday and wouldn’t dare complain about it. Captain of the cheerleading team and graduating at the top of her class, all while maintaining a relationship with her boyfriend, who she will eventually marry and start a family with.

 

This is what is supposed to make her happy, right? Everyone around her is jealous of her, they tell her all the time. So then, why does Clarke feel uncomfortable when Finn is waiting by her car after school with a sign in his hands.

 

**I DONUT WANT TO GO TO HOMECOMING WITHOUT YOU.**

He’s holding a box of glazed donuts from a shop down the street. A small crowd has gathered around them, mostly their friends. Finn is smiling like an idiot at her.

 

“Well…” he asks, stepping closer, “Will you go with me, babe?”

 

“Sure,” Clarke mumbles. _Okay, maybe she should at least pretend to be excited,_ “Yeah. Of course!” she hugs him. She can hear the excitement from her friends as she buries her face into Finn’s chest. She can smell his cologne.

 

This is what her life is supposed to be. Homecoming with her boyfriend, who would undoubtably be King. She will win Queen. They’ll dance in front of everyone. Her parents will be proud, and her friends will be jealous. Clarke will be happy.

 

 

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Lexa does her best to avert her eyes from the heterosexual pride parade going on in front of Clarke Griffin’s car after school. She’s currently sitting in her car, a few spaces down from the display. The lighter glows red as she raises her hands to the cigarette between her lips. She inhales deeply, hoping that the burning at the back of her throat will distract her from the knots in her stomach. (It doesn’t.)

 

Clarke looks happy. Well, that’s what most people would think looking at this interaction.

 

But Lexa sees Clarke’s hesitation when she hugs Finn. She watches her eyes that look anywhere but him. Clarke’s hands shake slightly when the display is over, leaving her and Finn alone. She watches as Finn kisses Clarke and something inside Lexa feels so _wrong_.

 

She lights a second cigarette.

 

Once they’re inside Finn’s car, Clarke’s smile drops. It’s like she’s turned herself off. Flipped a switch or pressed a button. The girl sitting in Finn’s car is not the same person who was graciously accepting a box of donuts just minutes ago. Finn is talking about something; Lexa can see his mouth moving. His hands make large gestures – each time one nears Clarke’s face, she flinches. It’s slight, almost entirely unnoticeable, but it’s there.

 

Lexa doesn’t realize how long she’s been starring. She could’ve sworn it’d only been a few minutes, but when she glances around, most of the other cars are gone.

 

_Why are they still sitting there?_

Finn’s car has been on the entire time, burning fuel for no reason. And, _dear God_ , he’s still talking. She hasn’t seen Clarke open her mouth once this whole time.

 

Then, without warning, Clarke’s eyes snap up and meet Lexa’s. It makes her stomach drop like she’s on a roller-coaster.

 

Lexa looks away, almost embarrassed for some reason. She feels like a child who was just caught stealing candy from a gas station. Scrambling, she pulls her car key out of her backpack, sticking it in the ignition and bringing the engine to life.

 

_Jesus, Lexa, be cool. Why do you care?_

Lexa turns up her radio, trying to flush out the thoughts that fill her head. Despite the mid-September heat, she’s covered in goosebumps. She tries to focus on the music – it always calms her down. The soft guitar riff that plays through her head. She’s almost ready to open her eyes again when there’s a knock at her window.

 

Hands tightening around the steering wheel, she jumps slightly. When she turns her head towards the passenger side window, she sees her standing there.

 

Clarke’s blue eyes are bright, illuminated by the sun that is starting to descend behind the hills. Yellow streaks of sunlight stretch across her face. Her hands are crossed over her body.

 

She knocks on the window again, “Are you going to unlock the car, or should I just stand here while you glare at me?” Clarke’s voice is muffled slightly by the music, but Lexa understands. The door unlocks with a _click_ and before Lexa can say anything, Clarke is sitting in her passenger seat.

 

Clarke doesn’t say anything for a moment, her eyebrows creasing together before she reaches out and turns Lexa’s radio off.

 

“Excuse you, this is _my_ car.” Lexa says, pressing the button to turn it back on.

 

“Well I can’t talk to you with this _degenerative shit_ playing in my ears.” Lexa scoffs in disbelief as Clarke turns it off again.

 

“Language, Griffin. You wouldn’t want that perfect girl persona to start fading, would you?”

 

“Why were you starring at me?” Clarke’s voice is low, “Why were you starring at us?”

 

“I wasn’t.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“I know you think the entire world revolves around you, but it doesn’t. Trust me, I have better things to think about than you and your beefcake boyfriend.”

 

Silence fills the air. Lexa looks Clarke over carefully; she’s wearing her school uniform. Skirt a few inches too short and blouse unbuttoned just low enough to draw attention. The small, golden cross hanging around her neck. Her shoes are white – not one single scuff mark and it almost makes Lexa chuckle. Perfection seems to be a theme in Clarke’s life.

 

“Are you really going to keep lover boy waiting?” Lexa points her fingers towards Finn’s car, where he is sitting with an extremely annoyed expression on his face.

 

“We need to start on our English project.”

 

Lexa pauses for a beat – that’s not what she was expecting. “Sure.”

 

“Library after school. I have practice almost every day until 6.”

 

When Lexa reaches towards the backseat for her backpack, Clarke inches away from her. The sinking feeling in Lexa’s stomach makes her grimace. _Is Clarke really so disgusted by her?_ She pulls her phone out and hands it to Clarke.

 

“Put in your number. I’ll text you.”

 

And once she does, Clarke is gone. She’s lowering herself back into Finn’s passenger seat without paying Lexa a second glance.

 

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“I don’t understand how you can eat like shit and still keep that figure.”

 

“Jealous?”

 

“Actually, yeah.”

 

Octavia shoves more fries into her mouth as Raven stares in envy. It’s become a bit of a tradition for them: milkshakes and fries at Mae’s once a week. Clarke sips her strawberry milkshake.

 

“So, Clarkey…” Raven draws, turning to face Clarke, “You and Finn?”

 

“What about us?”

 

“He’ll make quite the homecoming date, you know. I’m sure he’s gonna pull out all the stops.”

 

“What’s your point?”

 

“Are you gonna do _it_?”

 

“Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.” Clarke’s foot is tapping against the floor. She rolls her eyes. She thinks back to the night at Lincoln’s party; Finn’s hands felt so foreign on her.

 

“Why not?” Raven whines, “He’s obviously into you and basically perfect.”

 

Clarke shakes her head. It’s not like she hasn’t thought about it. Finn is everything most girls would ask for. He’s attractive, there’s no denying that. But Clarke can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. Something isn’t there and no matter how much she wants to love him…she can’t.

 

“It’s just…” Clarke contemplates telling them, finally talking to someone about the inner battle she fights every day, but under Raven’s intense stare all she can muster is: “I’m nervous.”

 

“Jesus, Raven, leave her alone. Not everyone runs around with sex on their mind all the time…” Clarke gives Octavia a thankful smile.

 

Friendship is a tricky thing. Clarke loves Raven. She’d kill for the girl, she’s sure that Raven would do the same. When she found out Finn cheated, Raven was about to go out and buy her own pitchfork. But over time, it’s almost like Raven has forgotten.

 

They’re like sisters. They love like sisters and they fight like sisters.

 

“Whatever. Shopping for dresses this Saturday? I thought we could go downtown.”

 

Clarke already has her dress. It’s a pretty blue color. She’s had it for months. Her mother bought it for her to try and make Clarke feel better when her father said he wouldn’t be home for another week or two. But she’ll go with them and power through their constant comments about colors and lengths and “does it show too much cleavage? Or not enough?” for hours on end.

 

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“You can’t always win. It’s just not fair.”

 

Lexa grabs a handful of chips, “I think you’ve just lost your touch.” It’s been weeks since Lexa and Lincoln have had a game night. She’d never tell him this, but she’s missed it. She sets down her controller and turns to face him fully.

 

“I still think you’re cheating.”

 

“How can you cheat at a video game? I don’t even think that’s possible.”

 

Lincoln shrugs, “Homecoming is quickly approaching…”

 

“If you want to ask me, just do it.” Lexa jokes, prompting a laugh from the taller boy.

 

“In your dreams, Woods. Plus, I already asked Octavia.” He looks down at the floor awkwardly.

 

“You really like her, huh?” Lincoln nods, a dopey smile spreading across his face, “Gross.”

 

“Oh please, you practically worshiped the ground Costia walked on.”

 

A silence falls over them. Lexa hasn’t heard her name in so long. She picks at some strands of the carpet in Lincoln’s bedroom, rolling them in between her fingers. She doesn’t know how to respond to that.

 

He’s right. She did worship the ground Costia walked on. She would have done anything for the girl. They met Freshman year. Costia was everything Lexa wasn’t: all smiles and positive thoughts. She’d been the second in command of the school newspaper, which was impressive for a Freshman. Costia took a particular interest in Lexa after they had Biology together. Their friendship grew quickly and it lit a fire in Lexa’s chest. 

 

Costia made her nervous. Costia made her _excited_. Costia made Lexa feel like she was floating hundreds of feet off the ground. Weightless and free.

 

Of course, it wouldn’t last long.

 

Lexa knew she felt something more than friendship for the other girl. How could she not? And Costia felt the same way.

 

It started innocently enough – lingering hugs and holding hands under a blanket when Lexa watched movies at Costia’s house every Friday night. When they first kissed, late one night in Costia’s room, Lexa knew she could never feel this way about a boy. Costia’s lips were so soft and gentle. Her hands so tentative and caring.

 

They kissed at every opportunity they got. Quickly in the darkroom when Costia was developing pictures for her photography project. In the bathroom of their classmate’s houses at parties. Costia’s bedroom. Lexa’s bedroom.

 

And it was blissful for a few months. They spent all winter together. And despite their relationship being a secret, Lexa had never felt more _free_.

 

When her father came home early from work one night and found them, Costia sitting in Lexa’s lap, their lips attached and hair messy, Lexa felt a change in the world around her.

 

Her father didn’t say anything at first. Costia was putting on her shoes quickly, grabbing her backpack and practically running out the door, whispering to Lexa that she’d call her later.

 

The call never came.

 

Lexa’s dad starred at her for what felt like forever before erupting into a frenzy. Punching a hole in the wall, screaming words that Lexa would rather not think about.

 

It ended with him hitting her, tears prickling at both of their eyes and Lexa never felt so betrayed. He told her to leave. He wouldn’t have things like _this_ happening in his house.

 

Lexa went to Anya’s that night, suitcase in hand and eyes so puffy she could barely see. That was also the last night she saw Costia. Her father called Costia’s parents, who subsequently sent her “away.” Lexa’s not sure where, but she’s never coming back. That’s what she was told when she begged Costia’s mother to tell her what happened.

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned-“

 

“It’s fine.” Lexa cuts Lincoln off, shaking her head, “I guess I was kind of whipped, huh?”

 

Lincoln always seemed to know things Lexa didn’t exactly tell him. Every time she and Costia would linger around each other, Lincoln would wink at her. They’d never explicitly spoken about it. Lexa told him about her father kicking her out, about the guilt she felt living with Anya, who should be experiencing the exciting moments of her early twenties, not taking care of a teenager and working double shifts to make ends meet.

 

And Lincoln listened to her.

 

“I heard her family is moving away. Back to where they’re from. Arizona, I think.”

 

“Oh.” Lexa tries not to think about that too much. Tries not to think about Costia being God-knows-where with no one to talk to.

 

“You know, I have a few friends who would be more than happy to take you to homecoming. I know you’re not interested in any of them, but I could tell them it’s a friends-only thing.” He offers, and Lexa smiles at his sweetness.

 

“No offense, but I’d rather die than have to sit through an entire dance with any football player.”

 

“Not cool.” He jokes, throwing a skittle towards her.

 

“You’re not exactly the most intellectual bunch.”

 

“You have to go. It’s a rite of passage for any high school student. It’s senior year and you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

 

“I doubt that. Plus, I don’t have a date.”

 

“I just told you, I can get you one.”

 

“Again, none of your friends are exactly my type.”

 

“Octavia’s brother needs a date. He’s a junior, but he’s sweet. I know the kid and he’d probably shit his pants if I told him I could get hot, broody, senior Lexa Woods to go with him.” Lexa looks at him with an unsure expression, “Think of it as charity, Woods.”

 

“What’s his name?”  


“Bellamy. He plays soccer and is too nervous to ask anyone in his grade.”

 

Lexa isn’t sure if it’s because she feels guilty for blowing Lincoln off for weeks, or if its because she’s tired and slightly out of it, but she finally sighs.

 

“Give him my number and tell him to text me.” She says, grabbing her backpack and walking towards Lincoln’s door, “And I swear to God, if he tries anything, I will not hesitate to kick his ass.”

 

“I expect nothing less.”

 

 

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Clarke is anxiously tapping her foot on the ground as she checks her phone for the fifth time in two minutes.

 

She should be here by now.

 

Lexa agreed to meet Clarke in the library today, at 6:15. It’s 6:25 and there’s no sign of the girl anywhere. Clarke pulls out her copy of _Sense and Sensibility_ and her annotations, setting them neatly on the table as she checks her phone again.

 

“You look like you’re about to have an aneurysm.”

 

Clarke is met with green eyes that seemingly appear out of nowhere. Lexa slides into a seat across from her, loudly slamming her backpack on the table, earning glares from surrounding students.

 

“You’re late.” Clarke hisses, fixating her glare on Lexa’s eyes, unrelenting.

 

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m here, aren’t I?”

 

“Whatever. Let’s get this over with.” Clarke mumbles, pulling out the rubric for their project from her folder and laying it between them. Lexa grabs it and gives it a quick look, before sliding it back towards Clarke.

 

“I see you took notes.” Lexa says, grabbing Clarke’s annotations and flipping through them.

 

“And I see you’ve done nothing. Did you even bring anything with you? Other than a bad attitude.”

 

“I’ve got my copy of the book. Not that I’ll be needing it. I’ve read it over 15 times.”

 

“Right.” Clarke fights off the urge to ask Lexa why. Why she’s read the book so many times. Is it simply one of many books Lexa can’t put down, or is it special? Does Lexa stay up late at night reading?

 

“Alright, Princess. Let’s get started.”

 

Surprisingly, working with Lexa is relatively easy. Sure, she’s insufferable at times, but overall, she pulls her own weight. She’s knowledgeable about everything that has to do with the book, the year it came out, background information on the author and character analysis.

 

All her answers are short, and she rarely looks at Clarke, instead busying herself with finding quotes to support their claims while Clarke types away on her laptop.

 

“Let’s talk about overall themes of the book. Then we can stop for today.” Clarke says, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

 

“Simple. It’s in the title.” Lexa says, lifting her feet up and placing them on the table, receiving a glare from Clarke. “Sense and Sensibility. The overall theme is the danger of excessive sensibility.”

 

“Meaning?”

 

“ _Meaning_ that sense is shown to be favorable over sensibility, at least in Austin’s opinion.”

 

“You’re dancing around a direct answer. We need to be precise here. Stop using the same words that are in the title and maybe we’ll get somewhere.” Clarke snaps, the library is near empty now. It’s going to close in about 30 minutes and Clarke needs to feel like they’re making progress.

 

“Did you even read the book, Clarke?” Lexa snaps back, raising an eyebrow at Clarke. (Clarke tries not to think about the way Lexa’s lips move when she says her name.)

 

“Of course, I read it. I annotated the entire _fucking_ book, Lexa.”

 

Lexa smirks, “Language.”

 

“You’re infuriating.”

 

Lexa lifts her feet off the table, leaning in closer to Clarke. “There’s two main plots, both centering around a relationship. Marianne and Willoughby represent sensibility. Elinor and Edward represent sense. The plots are intertwined for a reason.”

 

Clarke is typing furiously as Lexa speaks, trying to take down each word because this will make _great_ material for their final presentation.

 

“Elinor is the one who gets a happy ending, despite her tendency to remain slightly more closed off. She treads carefully through her relationship, through love, and is rewarded for this by marrying her first love – Edward.”

 

Clarke is trying not to get distracted by the passion in Lexa’s voice, by her ability to speak so smoothly and gracefully about such complex topics. Just when she thinks she’s done, Lexa continues.

 

“Marianne is overly romantic. In fact, at times, she’s childish. Annoying, even. Austin is trying to tell us that an excessive use of sensibility – of _feeling_ – leads to heartbreak.”

 

“So, follow your head, not your heart?” Clarke asks, finally taking a moment to look at Lexa. She’s much closer than Clarke thought she would be, elbows propped up on the table and head resting in her hands.

 

“Each person interprets art differently. But yes, I would argue that Austin strongly prefers mind over heart.” Lexa says, leaning back again. “Are we done here?”

 

“Um, yeah. I’ll email you the outline. We can start on the rough draft of the paper after homecoming.”

 

Lexa nods, picking up her backpack and hoisting it up onto her shoulder. She offers an awkward, short and blunt wave at Clarke before making a straight line for the exit door.

 

“Wait!” Clarke says, quickly gathering up her things and catching Lexa before she opened the door, “Do you agree?”

 

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that…” Lexa says, offering her a quizzical look.

 

“Do you agree with Austin? Mind over heart.” Clarke asks, unsure of why she wants to hear the answer so badly.

 

Lexa’s expression grows into one of amusement, “Why do you care?”

 

“I don’t.” Clarke says quickly, strongly regretting asking at all.

 

“Then I guess you don’t need an answer, right princess?”

 

Lexa’s out the door, then out of sight before Clarke can think of a witty response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writers block is serious and should be treated as a medical condition lol. I finally got past it and this is what happened! I hope you enjoyed it, I will try not to be so late with the update next time. 
> 
> As for the comments left on the last chapter: don't worry, Clarke will come around. I want to show her struggle with this, with her life and what she wants/doesn't want. Finn represents more than just a relationship. I'm picturing Clarke as a very Quinn Fabray-ish character at the moment: needing validation from those around her and focusing on perfection. I want her to grow through the story, not to remain static. She's flawed (as are all the characters) but I promise she will grow and change. Her relationship with Finn is not healthy and she will realize this soon (she's already realizing it). She's struggling with various things (sexuality, peer pressure, religion, self esteem) and I want to flesh those ideas out more in this story.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for your positive feedback. I know I'm late to the Clexa game, but I love their dynamic. Writing makes me happy and I hope it can bring some happiness to you all also. Let me know your thoughts and have a wonderful day!


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